MK Stop 24: Mr. Shaodow + Meet Me At Midnight + Baby Gravy + Desert Storm @ 02 Academy Oxford (5th September 2009)

Guitar boxes shuffle, 180 bpm metal grinds out the speakers, ready for the spell we’re put under. Baby Gravy steer the ship from Desert Storm’s crescendos. Stalking and slinking over the premises, Iona’s taut vocalizing maps out a Van de Graaff generator of low-slung static charge. “Nuffink”, with local MC Nzyme, is a highlight, self-raising to a mid-tempo comedown, where the sub bass is enlarged and synths permeate like slugs caught in a beer trap. ShaoDow enters for live favourite “Don’t Touch Me”, and the set ends with Iona crawling round the floor.

The gap between tension and release begins to broaden, as beer fuels the mosh-pit riot; by now there’s a sweaty intensity inside the Academy.

Initially I was cagey about Meet Me At Midnight, who at first sound a casualty of alt-rock. But spinning the microphone yo-yo-style, they expand their tapestry from lysergic groaning and shovelling of instrumental dirt, to petrol-bomb riffs more mince than meat. When unwinding their playful side they’re of great enjoyment. Unlike the body ping-pong that continues to upset the concord.

But now the Shaolin rapper is waiting in the wings with laptop-merchant Offkey and MC Leen. I last caught ShaoDow supporting The Scribes close to a year ago, on the release of his single “Grime”. He’s come on leaps and bounds since then: his voice of satirical wisdom bypassing getting banned on Channel U, guesting the Truck festival (reviewed in September's Nightshift), and unleashing his anger indiscriminately (a moral duty given his involvement in the Love Music, Hate Racism campaign) with ingenious prose that could tongue-tie the fiercest auctioneer.

Leaping onto the stage with a spinning crescent kick – shadow; moving ShaoDow – he’s a beacon of delight tonight; running through “Look Out, There’s a Black Man Coming”, an audacious a capella, and an insanely good freestyle session; covering topics as experimentally vague as Cheestrings, Hitler, the magic roundabout and Michael Jackson. I ended my evening with an affection so vast I could hardly wait to drop “That’s Mr. ShaoDow To You” into the CD player again and bop along to my heart’s content.